Shave your cock and balls

"The next time I see you I want these shaved," she says, stroking the underside of your balls. "Every single hair. If I find so much as a stubble, you're getting twenty lashings. Understood?"

You nod hastily.

"And one more thing. Aside from shaving it, you better not touch that cock. It doesn't deserve any attention," she says, flicking the tip.

You nod your understanding, get dressed, and leave. That night is hell on earth for you. You spend well over an hour in your bathtub, meticulously maneuvering your private parts and shaving every single millimeter of your scrotum and shaft. In the process, you can't help but touch your cock, which is coated in slick shaving foam. Pre cum begins to run down the shaft, washing the foam away.

Just as your starting to contemplate jerking it a few times, JUST a few times, you hear your phone vibrate over by the sink.

Samantha: You haven't touched it, have you?

You: Only to shave it.

You stare at your message for a moment before adding the word 'Goddess' onto the end and hit send.

Samantha: Good. Now get some sleep. I want you straight here after work tomorrow.

You let out a long sigh and step back into the bathtub. You cut on the shower and turn it all the way to cold.

It doesn't help. You spend the whole night tossing and turning. Any sleep that you do get is filled with visions of Samantha. She's always on top of you with perfect barbell-pierced nipples right in your face. And she's looking down at you with a wicked, evil grin on her face.

"No you may not cum... ever again," she says.

"No! Please, please, please...," you beg but she only smiles and slowly shakes her head from side to side.

When you wake up, you're drenched in sweat and of course are sprouting an almost painful hard-on.

That day you're almost useless at work. Keeping your mind on anything other than fucking your girlfriend's brains out is next to impossible. The worst part is that you know when work is over, no relief is in sight!

And yet, you find yourself leaving five minutes early and breaking every speed limit to get there.

You knock on the door and a few seconds later, "You may enter, pet."

Today she's back to band t-shirts but it's more than made up for by a pair of knee-high, high-heeled platform fuck-me boots with little chrome skulls on the ankles. The platforms are ridiculously tall, adding at least eight inches to her hight. Normally she only wears them when the two of you go out to the club. They've always made you weak in the knees.

"Eh-hem," she says, tapping her crop.

'Oh, yeah,' you think but dont dare speak out loud.

You start unbuttoning your shirt. When you reach your pants, your cock is practically busting out. When you unzip them it springs to attention. She smiles at the site of it, cleanly shaven and perpetually leaking pre cum.

"Did you touch it last night, after we spoke?" she asks.